Courtesan
by foxinschlox
Summary: "In how many different lifetimes have we been together this way? This can't be the only one..." [Exactly what you are expecting. For a friend by request. AU based on the Free! ED]


**Courtesan**  
Makoto|Nagisa

The scorching heat couldn't reach him in his quarters. After a long journey across seas of sand it was fine enough to see the city streets and the palace walls again. And then he was there. Like magic. Makoto inhaled the aromatic incense that lingered in the room. It was much cooler there too. So it was perfect.

But only moments after letting his body fall back into the luxurious bed that awaited him, the curtained doorway rustled and a lilting voice called out to him. Then came the sound of bare feet against marble.

"My prince!"

The pretty young blonde remembered himself, halted and bowed reverently after rushing in. However he couldn't hide his excitable eyes, revealed through the sheer veil he wore. And before he could issue an apology for entering without asking, he felt himself scooped up off the ground.

"Nagisa~" the prince murmured sweetly, his lips ghosting along the boy's ear. It tickled and he received the uncontrollable squirm and corresponding fit of laughter he was looking for.

Once he regained control of himself Nagisa managed a relieved sigh. "I thought they wouldn't send me... after last time. I stayed too long."

"Never long enough," Makoto huffed, and held him tighter. "I asked for you, that's why."

Nagisa felt the blush nipping at his cheeks. Out of all the courtesans employed by the palace he'd never felt like anything special. Until...

After all, Makoto was the eldest son of the Shah and his Eastern wife- one of many other wives, the way he was one of many other princes. The others that his sisters at the pleasure house dished so much dirt about so often: the Shah's sons were ill mannered brats, some of them prone to treating whores badly.

_'Not my prince.'_

Though he worried too much about too many things out of his control he was still so kind, to a needless extent, Nagisa thought.

Even now when he had the right to be demanding after a long trek home, Makoto would never ask anything of him he didn't offer first- only his company. It was only natural that Nagisa would do anything for him anyway.

The young courtesan toppled them back suddenly onto the bed. It was clear how much of a relief it was for Makoto to finally lay down from his happy sigh. They stayed still for a little while. Close but still, until the prince felt the weight of his impatient bedmate's body straddled over his torso. The veil had fallen off; it lay abandoned at their side.

The proud look the blonde wore once he'd climbed on top was priceless and caused a lopsided grin to spread across Makoto's face.

"I'm going to steal you one day. Maybe tomorrow."

"You think it would be that easy?" Nagisa puffed out his cheeks in a pout.

"No," he spoke fondly, "but I'm going to."

_A lot of them say that._  
_But they're not my prince._

Nagisa slid the strap of the goatskin bota he carried down from his shoulder, opened the end and pressed it to his lover's mouth. A dark red wine poured out from its insides; Makoto took a shallow sip at first, with his eyes sealed shut. He had forgotten how parched he was until the chilled liquid hit his tongue. After that first taste he drank so deeply that quite a bit of it spilled between them. Down his chin, down his neck, down his chest, running in streams that were far too tempting for the other to resist.

The lapping sounds Nagisa's made against his wet skin countered the pounding of his heart. The boy's tongue was so cute and pink against tanned flesh. He found himself wanting to taste it with his own. But Makoto came to grips with his own hesitation to initiate anything. The fear of being a disappointment, or being too demanding always lingered in his subconscious. It was in his nature. Even when he was with someone far below his own social rank.

If it had never been for one of his brothers hiring the boy for him one night they never would have met. To anyone else their story wouldn't have seemed all that special. What was special then if it wasn't what they had-

But he was losing himself feeling of such a talented mouth working him over, all the while stroking Nagisa's back with both hands. The courtesan's body shuddered. When was the last time he'd felt this way about being touched so simply? There was too much strength and warmth in those hands.

Remnants of sand, the dusty, earthy scent of the outside world, still clung to Makoto's skin as well. Nagisa loved everything about the way he tasted, the suppleness of his muscles, his scent... even without being covered in the finest wine. But it _was_ a nice touch.

Getting carried away, he poured more out onto the prince's chest. With a bit of regret and a searing deep kiss Makoto wrestled the wineskin away from him before he became completely drenched. Once they were free his hands groped at the blonde's plush little ass. If he blinked hard enough maybe his clothes would be gone without any struggle. But it didn't take all that much effort to slip down the elegant silks he wore once their touching grew more adventurous.

Without protest he would let the naked blonde in his lap do what he had been taught for most of his life. Having his entire length exposed and slicked down with oil by hand was a form of therapeutic torment. Nagisa was too fond of his deep, pleading moans. The kid was always so precise- putting pressure here and there just right, bending to use his mouth a little, even humming softly. He would never waste so much time spoiling any other client. Makoto almost wanted to apologize to the bed linens for clutching them so hard.

And then, as if watching the work of an artist, he had an incredible appreciation for the deep arch Nagisa's back made when positioning himself right at his tip. Makoto was eager enough to help him adjust with two fingers despite the bold order to lay back and relax. He couldn't let the brat get what he wanted all of the time.

There was just as much appreciation for the way Nagisa's expression lost composure, just before he was kissed wet and full on the mouth, and felt his body take his prince in.

He would take him over and over. If necessary he would take him endlessly.

"S-so this is how much I needed you. Really. I'm... I'm sorry..." _What am I saying?_  
Nagisa's voice was trembling. So were his thighs, already dripping wet; his lips were far from the only thing swollen.  
Every thrust slamming upward into him pushed him further from security. Closer to a steep drop. _With him it's very different. It aches in a very different way._

In return Makoto clung to him, kissed him, dug his hands into those slender hips and rocked him breathless. For reassurance, of course.  
No matter how things or people changed around them he wanted to hold fast, stay the same for Nagisa despite the circumstances. _In how many different lifetimes have we been together this way? This can't be the only one..._

They gorged themselves. On depth and friction on the taste of sweat and saliva and on each other's names. Until the climax swan dived- loudly, messily- and they were back down on solid earth again. The smaller boy's delicate body still heaved for a good while after. It was so soothing to watch him come down. Almost as good as undoing him in the first place. The prince was pleased with himself.

"Don't think I won't make good on that promise. I'll take you away with me next time I go," Makoto's exhausted voice was comforting in the wake of everything. It was as though he were made to comfort everyone around him. "...So you can see everything I get to see out there."

Nagisa lay flush against his side while one of his hands played absently with the sheer fabric of the bed's canopy. He was more like a poorly trained kitten than anything else. Too carefree to listen too closely too much of the time. But he was sweet and he was soft.

"Isn't it just sand? I've seen that."

The prince shook his head seriously.  
Sometimes he couldn't take a joke. That was the only disappointment.

"Imagine water that looks like it goes on past the far ends of the earth. All that water dancing and the sun sparkling off of it. Like the palace pool of the entire universe..."

He would carry on and on, entrancing Nagisa with fragmented descriptions from his travels so late into the night until sleep finally overtook him.

And every night from then on the young courtesan would dream only of the water that stretched on into eternity, and of the man who promised it to him.


End file.
